The Fallacy of Affirming the Consequent
by CaptAcorn
Summary: B'Elanna never wanted to her daughter to experience the same difficulties growing up part-Klingon that she did. So why does this all seem so familiar? Post-Endgame, minor angst only. Rated T for just a dash of inappropriate language.


**Author's note:** A big shout-out to Sareki for beta reading this for me, and helping me make it a much better story than it was originally!

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B'Elanna Torres was late getting home. Again. Her "afternoon off" had translated to her leaving at what was supposed to be the end of her normal work day. Which was still two to three hours earlier than she usually able to leave. At least she'd be able to eat dinner with her children for once, instead of just stealing a few minutes with them at bedtime.

Leaving Starfleet was supposed to give her and Tom more freedom. And it had, in a professional sense. Starting their own ship design firm meant not having to deal with dozens of Starfleet protocols, each one more esoteric than the last. There was no chain of command to get approval from, and they could pursue the projects they were interested in, versus the ones forced upon them. Not to mention the fact that it was infinitely better for Tom's well-being and B'Elanna's nerves. B'Elanna's position at Utopia Planetia had kept her planetside on Mars, but Tom's had increasingly led to "temporary" assignments, each one more dangerous than the last. After three years, neither one of them could take the strain anymore. They had both geared up for an epic showdown at the Admiral's dining table when they came out with their decision. But Owen had just seemed a little sad and not very surprised at all.

"You have to do what's right for your family," he sighed, bouncing his only granddaughter on his lap. "And I suppose I wouldn't mind having this little one on the same planet as me."

"Do you think he's a shape shifter?" Tom whispered into his wife's ear. She kicked him under the table in response.

Tom had been the busy one when they started out. For obvious reasons, her extroverted husband was the public face of the company, and a surprise pregnancy meant his wife was happy to let him take the lead in the beginning. But Tom's knack for creative problem solving and B'Elanna's impeccable and innovative propulsion systems soon built them quite a following - enough that they had to start turning away clients about a year ago. And enough that B'Elanna couldn't seem to get a moment's peace lately. Tom was deeply involved in the design and the testing phases, but B'Elanna had a major role in every project from start to finish. And they seemed incapable of finding engineers that could think for themselves. _B'Elanna, can you look at this? I can't figure out how to adjust the plasma flow to get the pressure you want in the EPS. B'Elanna, do you know what I'm doing wrong? The calculations I'm using to program the new impulse drive aren't coming out right. B'Elanna, can you wipe my ass for me? I'm not sure I know where to find it._ When she found herself missing Vorik the other day, she realized she had hit a new low point.

Their latest project seemed never ending - the Andorian merchant that had commissioned the vessel had exacting standards that he was unwilling to bend; not even for the laws of physics, apparently. B'Elanna was fairly certain she had spent more time talking to him this past week than she had her own children. Not that the kids seemed to miss her all that much.

It's not that her children weren't happy to be with her during the increasingly rare times she was at home and they were awake; they always greeted her eagerly when she came through the door. But the reality was Tom was a natural parent, and B'Elanna was...not. She missed her babies intensely when she was at work, but then she got home and all she wanted was to sit in a quiet room and not have anyone bother her for an hour. Or six. Maybe read a book for pleasure instead of another damn operations manual, proofreading it for errors.

And she'd trained her husband well. Maybe too well - he would often gently redirect the children away from her when she was home, sensing when she needed some time to herself. But it had happened so much lately that they didn't seem to come to her for anything anymore. It was all "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," with the occasional "Mommy, do you know where Daddy is?" thrown in. B'Elanna was feeling increasingly obsolete in her own family. Hence her attempt to take a half day off - she needed to make some changes and find some balance. She didn't want her children to grow up and find out she didn't even know who they were.

Predictably, that _petaQ_ Andorian's demands had derailed her plan. But at least she had a quiet weekend with her family to look forward to. As she opened the door of their house, though, she was greeted by the sounds of yelling and a slamming door coming from upstairs, and her mostly naked four year old running past her with underwear on his head. Her son seemingly the easiest and quickest problem to deal with, she snagged him as he made another pass through the front hall. "Momma!" he cried in joy, and he kissed her face as he grabbed her hair with sticky hands.

"Hi Jojo," she grinned at him. Physically, he was Tom's son, with his dirty blond hair that flopped over subtle forehead ridges and greyish blue eyes. But personality-wise, he was more B'Elanna - quiet and reserved with outsiders, fiercely loving with his family. The other way he resembled Tom was his penchant for getting into trouble. Her husband still laughed about the time last year when the little boy had run into Miral's martial arts class and started kicking her opponent, in a valiant attempt to protect his sister's honor. B'Elanna had wanted to crawl into a hole. "Where are your clothes?"

"Daddy was gonna give me a bath, but then Miri got real mad. So he forgot." He squirmed to get down from his mother's arms and marched towards the kitchen. "I am making a sammich. Does Momma want a sammich?"

B'Elanna followed him and took in the mess he'd made in the "sammich" making process. A jar of raspberry jelly was overturned on the counter, dripping its contents onto the floor. B'Elanna tried to suppress a frustrated sigh. She hadn't even put her bag down yet. "Let's clean this up, and _I'll_ make _you_ a sandwich, OK?" Where the hell was Tom, and what was he doing?

"Joe! Where are you? Let's get back to the bath!" Tom called as he came jogging down the stairs. "Maybe I can still successfully parent at least one of my children," B'Elanna heard him mutter as he appeared in the door of the kitchen. "Hey! I didn't hear you come in." He immediately bent to help her clean the jelly off the cabinet doors and give her a peck on the lips.

"Having a nice day off?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"It started out well," he replied, "Didn't it, Joe? Doughnuts before pre-school, playground after." He stood and snatched the underwear off his son's head. "Wrong end, buddy."

B'Elanna gestured to the ceiling, where all of them could hear the remaining member of the Torres-Paris clan stomping loudly. "So what's up with that?"

"We had to go pick up Miral early from school," he said, frowning. "There was an incident."

"What kind of incident?" B'Elanna asked, instantly wary.

"Well," he said, avoiding her eyes, "She sort of... hit her friend. In the face. More of a slap, really."

"What?" B'Elanna said, shocked. That was not like her daughter. Miral was sunny and outgoing, if a little prone to drama. She had such a large group of friends that B'Elanna had occasionally found herself in the awkward position of being jealous of her own daughter's popularity. Why had it been so hard for her when she was a girl, when it came so easily to her child?

"I'm still not sure how it all started; but, allegedly," Tom said, "Nishi called her 'Ridges'. That's what triggered the slapping, according to Miral."

"According to Miral?" B'Elanna said, feeling her anger grow. "Allegedly? What the fuck does that mean?"

Tom clamped his hands over their son's ears. "B'Elanna," he hissed with a pointed look. "The kid is still here."

B'Elanna took a deep breath, making a concerted effort to rein in her anger. "Will you just tell me what happened?"

"Nishi is denying the name calling, and no one else heard anything. That's why the 'allegedly.'"

"Which one is Nishi?" B'Elanna demanded.

"You probably haven't met her yet," Tom replied. "She just started at Miri's school about a month ago. Her mom told me she's having a tough time settling in."

B'Elanna was fuming. Her daughter was near universally praised by her teachers and coaches and this Nishi sounded like she already had reputation for being a problem, but Miral is the one that gets sent home? "Of course, since Miral is part Klingon, the principal thinks it must be her fault," B'Elanna snapped at her husband.

"B'Elanna," Tom said in a placating tone, as he picked up Joe and sat him on the counter, "I don't think it's like that. Miral did knock out one of Nishi's teeth."

"Oh please," B'Elanna said, annoyed that her husband wasn't taking his daughter's side. Of course he wasn't. "It was probably a baby tooth."

"I'm not sure that's the point," Tom said patiently, cleaning their son's face with a kitchen towel. "And no one is blaming anyone, exactly. Nishi's mother took her to the dentist, so the principal couldn't talk to her yet. The school day was almost over anyway; Mr. Robichaud thought it was best to just send Miri home early to cool off. That's all."

How could he be so calm about this? His daughter was being bullied to the point that she felt the need to lash out, and had been accused of lying on top of it. He was acting like she had scraped her knee! Mindful that their young son was still in the room with them, she managed to temper her response despite her irritation. "It doesn't sound like she's 'cooling off' all that well." There was a loud crash in the room above them.

"Yeah," Tom said, glancing over his shoulder at her."I think that's my fault."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why, exactly, do you think that?"

"I was trying to explain to her that she has to let this kind of stuff slide off her, you know?" he started, putting Joe back on the floor and swatting him gently with the towel as the boy took off for the playroom. "That if she shows the other kids it bothers her, it just encourages them. She said I didn't understand what she was talking about and why she was so upset. So I told her a story about when I was a kid, thinking it might show her I do understand. It didn't go over very well."

"Oh, Tom," B'Elanna said in exasperation. "Please tell me it wasn't the stupid story about the haircuts."

"Stupid story?" Tom said, offended. "I thought it was very relatable! It seemed to help you when we were being held in those Vidian mines!"

B'Elanna regarded her husband with a long suffering look that she reserved solely for his most frustratingly clueless moments. "Tom. That episode with the Vidians was one of the most painful experiences of my life. One of the reasons I fell in love with you was the compassion you showed me down there. But frankly, the only reason I didn't punch you in the nose for that haircut story was that I was literally split in two at the time." Tom still looked confused. B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "I was ostracized by my peers for half of my genetic makeup - the very fabric of my identity. You had to wear a hat for what, two weeks? Do you seriously not get this?"

"Oh," he said, scratching what was left of his hair. Considering how obsessed he had been with it as a child, he was being pretty cavalier about its loss now. B'Elanna wondered privately for the hundredth time if she could use a follicle stimulator on him when he was asleep. Just on a low setting. "I guess when you put it that way…"

She made a shooing motion at him. "Go. Take Joe with you to Gusto and pick up a pint of mint chip for after dinner."

"Miri's favorite is chocolate peanut butter these days." Another crash was heard from the bedroom. "Maybe I'll make it a quart. And get some of those cookies the size of Joe's head," Tom said as he headed out of the kitchen to wrangle their son.

"I thought Miral didn't like those." God, did she know anything about her daughter anymore? New kids at school, new favorite foods; what was next?

"The cookies are for me!" Tom called over his shoulder, as he chased Joe down to get him dressed.

 _So much for his resolution to eat healthier_ , B'Elanna thought as she started up the stairs. Maybe Miral wouldn't even want to talk to her. It's not like she had been there for her daughter very much lately. The room was quiet by the time she reached the door. B'Elanna knocked gently.

"Go away, Daddy! I want to be alone!" There was a soft thud as something was thrown against the door.

"Miral, it's me. Can I come in?"

Silence, then the door cracked open. "I guess." B'Elanna slowly pushed open the door the rest of way and made her way in.

Miral had her back towards her, and was staring out her window at the street below. The room didn't look nearly as bad as the commotion had made it sound. The nine year old had mostly thrown her stuffed toys around, chucked a few pillows off the bed. B'Elanna had done far greater damage when she was growing up. She remembered how angry the other Miral had been the time she punched a hole in the wall of their bathroom. She started picking up various animals as she made her way across the room to her daughter and gave Toby a little smile when she found him trapped underneath a quilt. "So I heard what happened," B'Elanna said quietly.

No response.

"I'd like to hear your side of things. Your dad gave me a pretty bare bones report." Dumping some of the toys on the bed, B'Elanna picked out Miral's favorite and moved to stand behind her daughter, where she continued to stare out the window at the street below.

"Hi Miral," she said, in a high squeaky voice very much unlike her own. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Miral turned around and took the green Betazoid cat from her mother and hugged it to her chest. She made a face. "Your funny voices are terrible."

B'Elanna smiled and sat on the bed. "I got you to talk, didn't I?" She patted the spot next to her. "Sit."

Miral sat. B'Elanna wrapped her arm around her daughter ( _God, she's getting tall_ ) and Miral rested her head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry your friend said something so mean to you." She felt Miral shrug against her. "It's not right, for someone to make fun of you for your physical appearance. And I know it hurts, but your Klingon heritage is nothing to be ashamed of. It's part of what you are, and what makes you special."

"It's not that big of a deal. That's just the way Nishi can be sometimes."

"Yes, it is a big deal. Nishi should never have said that. And someone needs to tell her that it's not OK. It's hard for humans to understand sometimes; what it's like to be different from everyone around you. How it hurts to have it pointed out." B'Elanna felt even worse for her daughter now. Not only was Miral subjected to a racist insult, but she felt like she had to make excuses for the girl that said it? B'Elanna was calling that principal as soon as she could. There was no way this other kid was getting off scot free for what she did. When she heard Miral start to sniffle, B'Elanna clutched her even tighter. "I know how it feels, though, and how much it hurts. You can talk to me, if you want."

"Daddy didn't understand," Miral said into her side, quietly sobbing now. "He told me some stupid story about a haircut."

"Your father has many wonderful qualities," B'Elanna said, (pretty diplomatically, she felt, given how annoyed she was with Tom right now). "But this isn't something he's really ever had to deal with. So he may not understand, no."

Miral pulled away a little bit now. "He never gets angry about anything!" she wailed.

"What?" B'Elanna's eyebrows drew together. The conversation was taking a turn that she had not been expecting.

Miral flopped onto her bed, hiding her face in the pillow. "Never mind," she mumbled, barely audible. "It's stupid."

B'Elanna rubbed her back. "It's not stupid if it's how you feel, Miri. You can tell me. I promise I won't laugh or think it's dumb."

Miral lay quietly for several minutes. Finally, she lifted her tear streaked face and looked at her mother. "Mommy?" she asked tentatively. "Am I a terrible person?"

B'Elanna lay down next to her daughter and put her arm around her, hoping her touch would convey the sincerity of her words. "No, Miral! Of course not! Why would you even think that?"

"I hit her! Just for calling me a stupid name!" Miral cried, starting to sob again.

Suddenly unsure of her footing, B'Elanna paused before she responded. "Well, no, hitting her was not the right thing to do. But Nishi shouldn't have called you what she did. It's OK to be angry about that."

"But it made me _so_ angry! It was like I actually saw red. Like I couldn't even stop myself from hitting her!" The expression on Miral's face broke her mother's heart. "What's wrong with me, Mommy?"

"Oh, baby, nothing's wrong with you!" B'Elanna reassured her. "Getting mad like that… It's just part of being Klingon. Like the ridges, and being a little faster and stronger than your friends." B'Elanna sighed. Apparently she'd gotten this all wrong. Mother of the year, she was. "That's what you're so upset about? Feeling out of control? Not about Nishi calling you Ridges?"

Miral shook her head. "No, I told you. That's just Nishi. She does it to everybody. That's why I feel so stupid." Calmer now, but still sniffling a little, she asked her mother, "Do you feel like that sometimes? Out of control?"

B'Elanna laughed a little at that. "More than sometimes." she said. "But not as much as I used to."

"Why not as much? How did you stop it?"

B'Elanna put her arm back around her daughter, pulling her close. "Well, some of it just comes with getting older. But...I had a Vulcan friend a long time ago. He taught me some things that helped." B'Elanna felt a little pang of nostalgia for those long ago "anger management" sessions with Tuvok. He so far away now, on his home planet. She and Tom hadn't spoken to him in probably half a decade. She really should write to him. "Maybe I can show you some of them one day. If you want."

Miral nodded, wiping the last of her tears away. "Please. And Mom, can we call Nishi, too? So I can apologize?"

B'Elanna felt her heart swell with pride and love for her daughter. How had she and Tom created such a wonderful person? "Sure, Miral. We can do that." She heard the front door open downstairs. "Let's see what the boys brought us home first, though. You finish cleaning up in here and I'll meet you down there."

As B'Elanna came down the stairs, she saw Tom in the front hall, talking to an unfamiliar woman. There was a girl about Miral's age standing in the open doorway, staring at her shoes and apparently refusing to come in. "Tom?" she said, brow furrowed.

"Hey," he smiled at her. "This is Shreya Maartens. Nishi's mom."

B'Elanna came slowly down the last few stairs. "Hello," she said cautiously. What the hell was he thinking? Hadn't Miral had a bad enough day without being attacked by the other girl's mother? She supposed the sullen child in her doorway was the infamous Nishi.

"They live pretty close by, and it seemed silly to let this fester all weekend," Tom said casually as he carried what appeared to be half of the ice cream store into their kitchen in one arm and Joe in the other.

Shreya approached her, and B'Elanna tensed, ready for a confrontation. She would not allow this woman to ignore what her daughter did just because of Miral's reaction.

"When I found out what happened between Miral and Nishi," Shreya started. "I felt terrible. Nishi should have never called her that. I hope you don't think it reflects what we teach her at home."

"Oh, I… No, I wouldn't think that." B'Elanna wondered if she was going to continue feel this wrong footed all the time, or if it was just a temporary phenomenon.

"Nishi, get in here!" Shreya turned back to B'Elanna, her voice dropping low. "She's had a hard time adjusting to Earth. Acting out at home, school. It's been difficult. And Miral's been so kind - trying to make her feel included. I'm not sure Nishi's been able to make any other friends. I wanted her to come here to apologize to Miral as soon as we could."

"Uh, thank you." B'Elanna gestured upstairs. "Miral feels bad as well. She wanted to call Nishi to apologize for hitting her. Miral?" she called, "Nishi's here!"

Her daughter thundered down the stairs. "Nishi! Come on, let's go to my room."

"'Kay," the girl in the doorway muttered, still not looking up. Miral came down the rest of the way, and grabbed Nishi's hand, hauling her up the stairs.

"Nishi!" her mother called up after her, "Just a few minutes! And don't forget to apologize!" She shrugged at B'Elanna, smiling a bit shyly. "Kids. What can you do?"

B'Elanna smiled back at her. "When you figure it out, can you let me know?"

B'Elanna went upstairs a few minutes later to tell Nishi her mother wanted to take her home. She took a moment to watch the girls giggling together over something they were looking at on a PADD. B'Elanna wondered what her childhood would have been like if there had been someone like Miral at her school; someone who chose to look past her prickly outside and tried to be her friend. She wondered if there had been children like that, and maybe she'd just pushed them all away.

After Shreya and Nishi left, Tom banished the kids into the backyard so they could run up an appetite and he could make dinner in peace. On their daughter's way out the door, she stopped and gave her dad a hug. "What's that for?" he asked her.

"For bringing Nishi over." Miral pulled on him until he bent over to get a kiss on the cheek. "And for calling you a _petaQ_ , and slamming the door in your face. Sorry, Daddy," she said contritely.

Tom straightened, smiling at her. "It wasn't the first time I've been called that. You're in good company," he said, with a smirk directed at his wife. "And I've been informed by reliable sources that my haircut story is, in fact, stupid. So maybe I deserved it." He hip checked her towards the back door. "Now go chase your brother around and wear him out. I need to get a good night's sleep for once."

B'Elanna watched Joe and Miral from the kitchen window and listened to the rhythmic sounds of her husband chopping vegetables. She turned to Tom and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his back.

"Now what's that for?" he asked, and B'Elanna could hear the humor in his voice.

"I'm sorry, too," she replied. "For being mad at your earlier. It turns out this whole thing wasn't about what I thought it was. And it also turns out you are doing a pretty good job raising our daughter."

"Seeing as I didn't even know you were mad at me," Tom said, "apology accepted. And _we_ are doing a pretty good job raising our daughter."

B'Elanna smiled at the noisy laughter of her children as they played. "I guess we are."

The End


End file.
